Lesson Learned the Hard Way
by Vol lady
Summary: Years ago, I worked too hard and spent too much time and concentration writing an important brief, which I thought was really brilliant. I learned a startling and hard lesson. I had a friend who did the same thing. In this two-chapter short story, it's Jarrod's turn to learn the same lesson. CAUTION everyone - THIS could happen to YOU!
1. Chapter 1

Lesson Learned the Hard Way

Chapter 1

It made no sense. It was a brief. He's written a hundred briefs before. He'd written briefs for cases before the US Circuit Court of Appeals before.

Yet when he wrote this one, it was as if someone else had taken charge of his hand and put down words that never came out of his mind.

When he read it after he wrote it, it was as if he were seeing the words for the first time, and they made no sense.

He shut his eyes against the words, but they kept appearing in his head. He read them over and over and wondered where they came from.

It wasn't that they were bad words, or the wrong words. They were good. They were poetic. They were beautiful. They just didn't make any sense.

But where did they come from and why did they bother him so much? How could they make both no sense and beautiful sense at the same time?

XXXXX

"Jarrod? Jarrod, talk to me. Jarrod, look at me. Look at me, Jarrod."

His eyes came away from the words and looked at the man whose face was close in front of his. The face came into focus.

Jarrod shook his head. "Nick. Where did you come from?"

"I've been here for five minutes trying to get your attention," Nick said. "You've been scaring the hell out of me. I sent Heath for the doctor."

"Scaring you? Why?"

"Because you've been staring at this damned paper in front of you and I couldn't get you to stop. What's the matter with you? I thought you were having a stroke or something."

Jarrod shook his head again. "No, no, it's just – this brief."

"What about it? What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing. It's fine. It's beautiful, actually. It's just – I don't think I wrote it."

"What do you mean? It looks like your handwriting."

"I know, but something about this brief. I remember putting the words down on the paper but I don't remember them coming out of me."

"You're making no sense, Jarrod."

"I know. It doesn't make any sense. I can't explain it, except the words didn't come out of me even if I put them on the paper."

Heath came back in. Jarrod saw Nick move away and Dr. Merar appear. "What's happening, Jarrod? How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Jarrod said. But his eyes went back to his brief and glazed over.

"Do you have any pain?"

"No, I'm fine. I just don't know where the words came from."

Dr. Merar looked at Nick and then back at Jarrod. "Look at me, Jarrod."

Jarrod looked at him. "Why are you here?"

"Heath came and got me. Your brothers are concerned about you because they couldn't get your attention for several minutes."

"I'm fine," Jarrod repeated. "I'm just having trouble with this brief. I don't know where the words came from."

"You don't remember writing it?"

Jarrod still talked as if in a daze. "No, I remember writing it. It's just that the words didn't seem to come from me."

Dr. Merar looked at Nick and Heath again. They looked frightened. He looked back at Jarrod, who was looking at the brief again, still looking dazed. Dr. Merar reached for his arms. "Jarrod, let me take you over to my office and have a good look at you."

Abruptly, Jarrod tore his arms out of the doctor's hands, stood up and pounded his desk. "There's nothing wrong with me! I've just got my head tied up in this brief and – it's like I'm not writing it! It's writing me!"

"Jarrod, you're making no sense," Nick said.

"Of course I'm not making any sense! This brief isn't making any sense! Let me alone and let me try to make sense out of it!"

Heath reached for Jarrod, but Jarrod grabbed onto his right arm, hard. Heath grabbed onto Jarrod's right arm, and they stood there, trying to wrench out of each other's grasp.

"Will you leave me alone?!" Jarrod blurted out.

The doctor turned away and talked to Nick. Nick moved to Jarrod's left and tried to pull Jarrod's hand off Heath's right arm.

Jarrod tried to jerk away. "What?! What are you doing?!"

The doctor jabbed Jarrod's left arm with a needle, right through his shirt.

"Hey! What are you doing?! There's nothing wrong with me!" He started to sink down into his chair again.

His brothers kept hold of him until they felt him relax. Jarrod heard them talking from very far away.

Nick – "I don't know what the hell's going on with him."

Dr. Merar – "He's relaxed, but he shouldn't go to sleep for a while yet. You'll still have to help him to my office."

Nick and Heath began to lift him.

"Let me alone! Let me work on this brief!" Jarrod said, except his words were garbled and that wasn't what his brothers or the doctor heard.

His brothers lifted him, put their arms under his and grabbed the back of his belt. He struggled along as they pulled him out from behind the desk and out the door.

He tried to tell them he was all right, but the words wouldn't come out. He saw the steps leading down to the street, he saw the street, he saw the people staring at him. It all looked like it was under water. He tried to talk, but only garbled words came out. People started to look at him like he was drunk.

His brothers took him into the doctor's office. He knew it. He recognized the room. They took him into the examination room and sat him down in a chair.

He felt very relaxed. He couldn't sit up in the chair. They laid him on the table instead.

His brothers left. The doctor kept talking to him and asking him questions and moving a lit match in front of his eyes.

"Do you know where you are, Jarrod?"

"Your office," he said, but the words were slurred.

"That's right," Dr. Merar said. "Tell me about the brief you were writing. Tell me about how the words didn't seem to come out of you."

"That's all. They didn't come out of me. I wrote them, but they were just there."

"What's the brief about, Jarrod?"

"it's – uh – "

That was where he was blocked. He couldn't remember what the brief was about.

It was too hard to try to remember. He was tired. He went to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next thing he knew, he was sitting in the chair in the doctor's office again, and Dr. Merar was forcing him to drink something terribly sweet. So sweet Jarrod turned away from it.

"Drink this, Jarrod. It will help you."

"What is it? It tastes awful."

"Just sugary, that's all. Eat this sandwich, too."

It was a ham sandwich. It tasted good. It made the sugary drink tolerable.

It felt good to eat. Jarrod couldn't remember the last time he ate, but for that matter, he couldn't remember why he was here or how long he'd been here.

He heard their voices again, from far away.

Dr. Merar – "He's clearing of that sedative now. I think this food might do the trick."

Nick – "Are you telling me that all this craziness is because he hasn't been eating?"

Dr. Merar – "That's what I suspect, but we'll know in a few minutes."

Nick – "Mother and Audra should be here any minute."

"No – " Jarrod protested. "I don't want Mother and Audra here – "

Nick - "Too bad, they're coming."

Jarrod finished off the sandwich and drank more of the sugary drink, but he couldn't finish it. He made a face and turned away from it. "Let me out of here. I've got a brief to write."

Nick – "You already wrote it. Don't worry about it."

The feeling of being under water began to disappear. Jarrod tried to get up. Nick and Dr. Merar pushed him down again.

"You're not ready to get up yet," Nick said.

Jarrod looked at him and recognized him. "Nick, what are you doing here?"

"Looking after you."

Dr. Merar asked, "Do you know where you are?"

Jarrod looked around. "Your office? How did I get here?"

"Answer me a question, Jarrod. When was the last time you ate anything?"

The words of the brief were still moving around in his head. He shut his eyes and tried to think. "Uh – yesterday maybe."

"You worked all night on that brief, didn't you?" Nick asked.

Jarrod took a head-clearing breath. He was beginning to tremble, but the world was beginning to make sense again. "Yes, I did. I've done that plenty of times."

"Not since you passed 30, I'll wager," Dr. Merar said. "How are you feeling now? Is your vision clearing?"

"Yes," Jarrod said. "Yes, it is. What happened? Why am I here?"

Something smelled funny. Jarrod looked at the front of his shirt. He had vomited. He didn't remember vomiting.

"What – " Jarrod said, looking utterly confused, looking everywhere around him. "How did I get here?"

"Heath and I carried you," Nick said.

"This is crazy," Jarrod said, his words becoming more clear as his head did. "I don't remember being sick. I don't remember being carried."

"Look at me, Jarrod," Dr. Merar said.

Jarrod looked at him as steady as he could. "God, I've been sweating, too," he noticed.

Nick stood up straight. "And all this is just because he hasn't eaten since yesterday?"

Dr. Merar nodded. "I think so. I don't see any evidence of a stroke or anything like that, and he's starting to make sense again since he's eaten. The sweating, the vomiting – he's had a nasty case of low blood sugar."

"Oh, my head hurts," Jarrod said.

"Side effect of the sedative I gave you," Dr. Merar said. "It's a sedative that wears off fairly quickly. The headache will pass."

"Sedative? Why did you sedate me?"

"Because you were fighting us like we were trying to kill you," Nick said. "And all this is because you haven't eaten since yesterday."

"And stayed up all night," Dr. Merar added. "You can't do that anymore, Jarrod. You're not a kid."

Jarrod started to remember the brief. "The brief I wrote didn't make any sense. The words didn't seem to be coming out of me."

"Oh, they were coming out of you but out of your mixed up head. Wait til you see what you wrote."

Jarrod groaned and leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair, then rested his forehead in his hand. "You read it?"

"I had Heath go get it. It's what made me think that maybe your blood sugar had gotten too low. Now, lift your left arm for me."

"What?"

"Your left arm. Lift it up and put it down again."

Jarrod did as he was told.

"Good. Lift you left foot up."

Jarrod did it.

"Good. Now lift the right foot."

"All right, all right," Jarrod said, lifted his right foot and then lifted his head out of his right hand. He waved his right hand around and then let his aching head fall into it again.

"Do you know what year this is?"

"1877."

"Do you know how old you are?"

"34."

"Do you know what your Mother's name is?"

"Victoria Barkley. I'm all right. I swear I'm all right."

Dr. Merar looked at Nick. "I don't see any evidence of a stroke. His eyes have looked equal and react to light. You can see there's no paralysis, and eating and drinking is making him come around. He had a severely low blood sugar. Jarrod, listen to me."

"I've been listening," Jarrod said. "I haven't had a stroke."

"No, but you've had a very low blood sugar because you haven't eaten and you can't do that anymore, do you hear me? Severely low blood sugars can make you do crazy things and kill you just as sure as a stroke can, do you understand?"

"I understand," Jarrod said. "I promise, I'll eat regularly from now on."

Jarrod started to get up, but it was too soon. Nick grabbed him by an arm and sat him back down again.

There came the sound of people talking in the waiting room. Dr. Merar said, "I'll go explain this to them. Jarrod, you are not to get up until I say you can, got that?"

"Got that," Jarrod said without looking up.

Dr. Merar went out. Jarrod could feel Nick standing beside him and looking down at him disapprovingly. "I'm sorry I scared you, Nick."

"Damn well oughtta be, and you owe me an apology for all those times you needled me about eating too often," Nick said.

"I apologize," Jarrod said.

"And you'll have to apologize to Mother and Audra, too. They're probably scared out of their wits."

"I'll apologize."

"How do you feel?"

"Better every minute," Jarrod said and sat up straight. He looked at Nick with bleary eyes, but eyes that had lost that confused look they'd had before. "I can't wait to read that brief."

"Most of it looked all right. The last page had words on it, but they didn't make any sense."

"That's what I told you. You wouldn't believe me."

"You scared the living daylights out of us, Pappy. You can't do that anymore."

Jarrod smiled a little. "I won't do that anymore."

"How are you feeling now?"

"More solid. Head hurts, but more solid."

Nick heaved a big sigh. "Tell you one thing."

"What's that?"

"I can see it's gonna be handy, watching my big brother grow older ahead of me. I can learn the lessons while you make all the mistakes."

Jarrod finally looked up at his brother. He smiled a little more. "All right, but I'll expect you NOT to needle me about gaining weight if I'm more regular about my meals. That's the price for using me to learn this lesson."

"Deal," Nick said and slapped Jarrod gently on the back.

"Now, where's my brief?"

THE END


End file.
